Handlebars
by darkmorsmordreheart
Summary: H&D. Just because you can, does that mean you should? NonMagic. Inspired by the Flobots song that has been plaguing me for days.
1. Prologue

Handlebars

By darkmosmordreheart

* * *

**Prologue**

Just because you can, does that mean you should?

_I can ride my bike with no handlebars,_

_No handlebars,_

_No handlebars . . ._

_I can ride my bike with no handlebars,_

_No handlebars,_

_No handlebars . . ._

That was his favorite song. He found it . . . hell, I dunno where he found it; I just know he tormented me with it for weeks on end. It was the most played on his iPod, always on repeat, forever hummed under his breath.

It was complex and simple at the same time. The beat was easy to follow, melodic . . . almost cute. And the message . . . so political, but I don't really think that's why it attracted him so. I mean, I had to remind him to vote in the goddamn primaries, what the fuck did he care about politics?

But it was the song . . . perhaps the first three lines of it that obsessed him so. I'm listening to it now. They are so simple . . . a phrase you would say to your friends when you all were ten and racing through the park under no parental supervision. A time when there was absolutely no way you could get caught doing something you knew was risky. Of course, you had no helmet so the "Look Mom, no hands!" trick was a feat . . .

_No handlebars . . ._

He was always one to take those sort of risks. He was fearless in that sense, doing things that people told him not to do and not thinking, or caring, about the consequences.

_I can ride my bike . . ._

He tried so hard not to seem weak. He ached to be strong, to . . . make up for what he felt was his mistake, but . . . I constantly had to tell him that breathing was not his mistake. He was not at fault for surviving. It was out of his hands . . . Everything was, but he tended to ache to gain the grip of things. He always wanted to be grounded, to understand, to bring everything into his power. He didn't like to be out of control. He felt it was a weakness.

_No handlebars,_

_No handlebars . . ._

I know I didn't pay as much attention to his problems as I should have. He was going through some things, but I was too and . . . the things he was going through . . . He was always going through the same exact thing. He always had the same problem. In my selfishness, I wanted him to solve it himself, without any input from me, but . . . I was a fool.

He got caught up in his problem and in me . . . I ruined him and he didn't even realize it was me. What we were doing . . . it was so wrong . . . so wrong . . . and I saw it, but I ignored it.

I see now that the song was like a confession of our sins to him. The risk we take, even though we really shouldn't take it. This song was guilt to him.

_I can ride my bike with no handlebars,_

_No handlebars,_

_No handlebars . . ._

You can ride your bike with no handlebars; big fucking whoop, but can you walk into a room and find your lover dead on the floor?

I couldn't.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Just in case you were wondering, the song is called Handlebars by the Flobots. It was super addictive to me. _**-DMH**_


	2. Look At Me, Look At Me

**Look At Me, Look At Me . . .**

Draco Malfoy threw his keys on the kitchen table and ran a hand through his sweaty white-gold hair. He closed his eyes for a moment, pondered how hard he would have to bang his head into the wall in order to crush his skull, and then decided against it. Instead, he took a deep breath and sat at the table, setting his elbows on the surface just as his mother taught him not to do. He put his face into his clammy hands and he forced out a shuddered sigh. He hated the days when he had to remind himself to breathe.

Out of nowhere, a hand clapped onto his shoulder and he jumped about a foot into the air in alarm. Green eyes smiled down at him, as well as a taunting smirk. "Alright there, Draco?"

"Oh, shut up, Harry," the blond snapped, pushing up from the chair and pushing past the other. "I've had a fucking 'nuff of you today and I don't need you getting into my face about anything else."

The brunet followed him with a sneer. "You've had enough with me?! It was your bloody idea in the first place! How the fuck was I suppose to know you didn't actually want to go through with it?"

"Because you . . . You should have just known." Draco marched away, but only got as far as the second floor landing before Harry caught up and pinned him to the nearest wall. They had a battle with merely their eyes for a moment and, when the warring ended, both were breathing heavily. Finally, Harry lifted a hand and traced a calloused finger across the blond's smooth lips.

"I'm sorry I didn't know." Draco closed his eyes at the whispered words and didn't shy away from the kiss he received. "But now we have a serious problem, luv. We have to get it sold. Get it out of our hands, out of our hair, and then, luv, we'll be alright . . . Alright?" Draco nodded and received another soft peck to his lips. "Alright. Let's go on back downstairs and at least move it."

The blond pulled away from the other's embrace and stepped back down the staircase carefully; he didn't want Harry to see how hard he was shaking. "You pulled the car into the garage, right?"

"Yup."

"Well . . . we'll move it to Ron's car for now and when he comes to pick it up next week, we'll move half of it back into ours to give to Blaise."

"To sell to Blaise," Harry corrected, lightly jogging past the blond and catching him around the waist. He pulled him close and kissed his forehead. "You're seriously not mad, are you love? I mean . . . it _was_ your idea."

"I know it was my idea, Harry," Draco sighed, his hands reaching up to cup the other man's cheeks. "I'm not mad at you."

Green eyes searched his face eagerly, as if hunting for a piece of a lie. Finally, Harry smiled. "Good. That makes me happy. I don't like it when you're mad at me." Draco said nothing, but pulled him down for a long kiss. "Mmm . . . So good. Come on." He took the blond's hand and led him back outdoors where 

they were immediately greeted with a wave from one of the neighbors. Harry waved back with their enjoined hands and continued to steer Draco to the garage. Once inside, with the doors securely closed behind them, he unlocked his car, reached into the front and turned on his CD player. Draco cringed as soon as he heard the plucking tones of that wretched song. Harry hummed tonelessly along to it as he popped open his trunk.

_I can ride my bike with no handlebars,_

_No handlebars,_

_No handlebars . . ._

Harry smiled and smoothed a hand up the side of his classic powder blue '69 Ford Mustang before spinning around and smoothing a hand down his best friend's hot red Corvette. "We have fine tastes in cars, me and Ron, don't we luv?"

"Yeah," the blond said softly as he pulled up the top of the trunk and looked down at the two large black duffle bags inside. He bit his lip and turned to look at the other man. "So . . . we're just going to move it, right?"

Harry gave him an arched look. "What the hell else would I do with it, Draco?"

"Sorry." He moved to the Corvette and traced his hands over the keyhole to its trunk. "So Ron's car is just going to stay in the garage for a week?"

"Yup," the brunet said, walking to his trunk and lifting out a heavy bag. "Damn . . . Yeah, that's so that just in case our car gets searched when you or me are going somewhere, the cops don't find anything. They would need a warrant to search the garage."

Draco nodded and moved aside to allow the other space to throw the bag into the Corvette's trunk.

"'_Look at me, Look at me, driving and I won't stop and it feels so good to be alive and on top,'_" Harry sang softly as he picked up the other bag and carried it to the red car. Finally, both trunks slammed close and the music stopped playing and they were walking out of the garage, hand in hand once more. "Draco, I want ice cream."

"We have ice cream in the fridge, I think."

"No, not that kind. The kind you get walking through the park on a nice day," Harry told him, unlinking their hands, but wrapping his arm around the blond's shoulder and grabbing Draco's other hand. "Walk through the park with me today. I'll get you a cone with strawberry ice cream . . . the kind that you like."

"With artificial flavoring?" Draco snorted. "Cuz that's all the vendors in the park have."

"Shut up, Malfoy, you love that kind."

* * *

They must have been sitting under that tree for an hour at the least. It was so comfortable. The breeze was blowing gently, the air was sweet, and the sun was warm and shining, but not in an irritating way. In fact, the sun shined so nicely, that the tree's excellent shade created attractive shadows of leaves on Harry's sleeping face. Draco traced those patterns slowly and lovingly as he cradled the brunet's head in his lap. He ignored the shadows under the man's eyes, but instead planted light kisses on the ones shaped like leaves . . . the one's that were not permanent.

The idea of ice cream had long been forgotten since they walked up to this park. Cotton candy was immediately pounced upon and pocket change for the ice cream when the time arrived was scarce. But Draco didn't mind. Harry was smiling, so Draco didn't mind. He kissed a shadow again. Eyes greener that the leaves that rained around them from the large tree opened slightly and looked into a light grey gaze.

"Hey, luv," Harry whispered.

"Hi, Harry."

"How long have I been out?"

Draco shrugged and leaned back against the tree trunk. He looked straight ahead to see two small children chasing one another for the right to hold a bright golden ball. "I dunno . . . About twenty minutes or so . . ."

"Oh," Harry replied. "We should head back."

"Alright." They stood, brushed themselves off from dirt and grass and leaves and gripped on another's hands as they strolled back out of the park. They reached the iron gates when Harry abruptly stopped and pulled Draco into his arms. They stayed just like that for a moment, twined in a tight embrace as the earth moved around them. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Harry," Draco said softly, reaching up to stroke his lover's pitch black hair. "I love you, too." He felt Harry nuzzle his neck with his nose, then plant a soft kiss against the pale skin. He shivered and Harry pulled away. "What was up with that?"

Harry shrugged and walked through the gates.

* * *

"We have dinner with Pansy and her new lover tomorrow."

"I wish you wouldn't call him that," Draco chided, scrubbing his face carefully as Harry flushed the toilet and nudged him aside to get to the sink. Draco nudged back with a laugh. "I think she's really serious about it this time. He's more than a lover to her."

"A boyfriend, then?" Harry chuckled, reaching across Draco to grab a towel and wipe his hands. He threw it back onto the holder, where Draco immediately straightened it up once more, and left the room. "They've only been together for two days. It can't possibly be that serious."

"You hush and come back in here."

"Why?" the brunet asked, his dark head peeking back into the room.

"Because you didn't brush your teeth," Draco informed him, holding up his own toothbrush. Green eyes rolled and Harry marched back into the room.

"Okay, _Mom_," Harry laughed, picking up his own toothbrush as he pushed himself behind the other, trapping the blond against the counter.

"Harry, stop it," he giggled, pushing back against his boyfriend with his butt. Harry laughed through his mouth full of minty foam and pushed Draco out of the way to spit it out in the sink.

"I just don't get what the big deal about this new guy is. And I dunno why he can't be called a lover; they've probably fucked more than they've talked." Draco jabbed him not so gently in the side with his elbow and continued to brush. "Seriously, luv . . . You know how important we are and I would still consider you my lover."

Draco flushed prettily and rinsed out his mouth. He turned to the man behind him and he wrapped his arms around the other's waist. He pulled him forward and kissed him slowly. Soon Harry was moaning and poised to lift the blond onto the counter to ravish. Instead, he pulled away from the kiss. "Does this mean sex?"

"Uh huh," Draco confirmed, his hands tracing down his lover's chest.

"Yay for me!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Tell me what you think, please. _**-DMH**_


	3. I Can Keep Rhythm

**I Can Keep Rhythm . . .**

"This is a nice restaurant," Harry said softly as they pulled up to the front of one of London's finest places for cuisine. "Look, they even have valet parking."

Draco nodded and smiled as they both climbed out of the mustang. He watched for a few moments as Harry threatened the man who took his keys into taking good care of his American car. Finally, the brunet relinquished the keys and walked around the car to enter the building with his boyfriend.

"So is she and . . . her new guy here already?"

"I think so, but we still have to wait for her up front," the blond replied as they reached the greeter. "Um, I think the reservation is under Parkinson, party of four."

"Oh yes," the man replied, looking down to a piece of paper on his podium. "Right this way. Miss Parkinson arrived just moments ago."

The pair followed the man through the restaurant to a table where a small, pale woman and a man with untamable dark red hair sat. The pale faced woman immediately jumped from her chair at the sight of Draco and they hugged and kissed, complimented one another, and introduced their partners to one another. Finally, they were seated and two more menus joined the table with the anticipation of their server coming to take their order.

"How do you like this place?" Pansy asked, her fingers twirling in her short, dark curls as she looked at her favorite couple with eager eyes.

"It's lovely," Draco told her with a sweet smile. "Harry and I were talking of how wonderful it looked when we were outside just a moment ago."

"It's even better from the inside," Harry said absently, staring down at his menu. Draco knew his gaze was so intense because he was looking for the largest and cheapest piece of steak he could get.

"Oh really!" Pansy gasped happily, taking her date's hand within her own. "Theodore designed this place."

Green eyes flicked up from the menu and assessed the man with the long, almost messy auburn hair, dark grey eyes, and long, wiry face for a moment before flicking back down to the wine section. "Really now?"

"Yes," the brunette told them, going into a story of how she met Theodore as he redesigned her kitchen. It was quite a nice tale, in fact, and Draco had to kick his boyfriend under the table a few times so that he would get all of it.

"So," Pansy sighed, sipping on a glass of water. "How have you both been?"

"We've been well," Draco lied. "We just moved into the new house. It's a strange adjustment from the flat, but we're coping, aren't we Harry?"

"Yes," Harry replied automatically, finally placing his menu down and looking to his lover. He held out his hand slowly and Draco took it, a slight flush on his face. "Everything is going quite well."

Silver searched his face for a moment after catching the dark undertones of that statement, but Harry merely lifted Draco's fingers and kissed them softly. "Did he tell you that we're thinking of getting married?"

"Harry! You're not supposed to tell anyone!" Draco gasped, snatching his hand away and smacking the other lightly on the arm.

Pansy watched as Draco's pale face went bright red with a smile. "Well, I feel I should know this, being your best friend and all!"

"I know, Pans, it's just that . . ." the blond trailed off and folded his hands in his lap.

"He's frightened of what his father would say if he married a man," Harry supplied shortly. "Oh look, the wine is here."

* * *

Forty minutes later, Pansy ordered her Theodore to retrieve a Chardonnay for her at the bar and Harry went along to buy a brandy. As soon as the two men were out of hearing range, Pansy leaned over the table to take her dearest friend's hand. "Why are you still with him?"

Draco yanked his hands away and looked to the bar where Theodore and Harry were having a stiff conversation. "He wasn't always like this."

"Well, he's not treating you right, right now, is he?"

Draco shook his head. "But I love him. He's going through things, Pans. I can't leave him."

"Does he hit you?"

The blond looked up at her with wide, shocked silver eyes. "How could you even suggest such a thing? I would never allow any man to hit me."

She nodded at the fierce tone and looked away, a bit ashamed. "Forgive . . . but I can see that he is hurting you."

"It's just that . . ." Draco wiped the corner of his eye and took a deep breath. "It feels like sometimes he's just not here."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged and struggled to keep his composure; they were, after all, in public. "I don't know. Sometimes he's not Harry . . . Sometimes . . . he's like a shell."

Before Pansy could reply, the men returned to the table so, instead, she greeted them with a beaming grin. Harry took his seat next to Draco and stared at him a moment with worried eyes.

"Is everything alright?"

The blond nodded and stole a sip of Harry's drink. "Fine . . . Please take me home."

* * *

Strong hands pinned his thin wrist to the mattress and he arched his back, wrapping his legs even tighter around the pistoning hips above him. He knew that his heels were digging into the small of his lovers back, but he also knew that his lover didn't care, so he dug in a bit harder. A hot mouth was devouring his neck and he leaned into it, loving the feeling of heat and wetness, loving that Harry felt the way he always had.

_I can keep rhythm with no metronome . . ._

His hands trailed into inky black hair as the thrusts became harder. Over and over again, he felt as if he was going to melt into the mattress, but every time Harry slipped out of him . . . he felt as if he was wind, binding itself around the other man and tying him down just as Draco was pinned to the bed, making Harry come back to him continuously.

_No metronome,_

_No metronome . . ._

"Tell me when you're coming." Draco shook his head, knowing that Harry would stop in the teasing manner he always did. "Tell me!"

"I'm coming!" he shouted, and Harry stopped, pulling out and changing positions so that he was behind Draco and the blond was on his knees. He thrust back inside hard and Draco shattered, sobbed his pleasure into the pillows under his cheek.

* * *

They lay awake for a moment in the darkness; Draco on his stomach, Harry on his back, and their legs entwined in such a way that the backs of their knees locked with one another. Draco nuzzled his wet pillow and he shivered a bit when Harry's fingers skimmed over the sensitive flesh of the back of his thigh.

"What were you and Pansy talking about when me and that guy went to the bar?"

"Nothing," Draco sighed, a lump forming in his throat as his heart began to beat faster.

"She made you cry."

"No, she didn't."

"I saw you cry."

"I was not crying," Draco insisted, pulling away from the other's warmth to sit on the edge of the bed, but an arm reached out and around him, pulling him back until he and Harry were spooning. "Stop it. I wasn't crying."

"You were about to. I saw you wiping your eyes," the brunet whispered into his ear. "Tell me why. Were you talking about me?"

"Yes."

"What did you tell her?"

"Nothing."

"Did she tell you to leave me again?"

"Yes."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Harry spun him around and lifted him so that he was straddling his stomach.

"Ride me."

Draco nodded and positioned himself, sinking down onto that hot heat until he was completely full. His head fell back and one hand balanced himself on Harry's chest while the other stroked him into oblivion.

"I'm sorry I made you mad at dinner," Harry told him as he thrust his hips up.

"I wasn't mad," Draco replied, thrusting back down at the same time, their rhythm matching up as always.

"Just sad."

"Harry, I'm coming!"

"Then come . . . So sensitive," the brunet said, letting himself go as he felt the wetness explode against his chest. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Draco panted, collapsing on the other's chest and allowing his tears to flow free.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I really, really like this story. Tell me if you do, too. Or, tell me if you don't. Thanks. _**-DMH**_


	4. And I Won’t Stop

**Author's Note**: Hey people! Have not updated this in awhile, but it's suddenly hard to write because I've changed the plot about five times now, but no worries, I have a path I want to follow and I intend to finish this story. Anywho, I just love the reviews I've gotten, especially the ones when you guys say you don't like the song! LOL! I'm used to my friends not liking my choice in music, but I did not really expect people who heard the song and did not like it to keep reading my fic! That really warms my heart, you guys. Thanks so much! _**–DMH**_

**Warning**: drug use

* * *

**And I Won't Stop . . .**

Draco opened his eyes and stared at his ringing alarm clock.

He lay there for a moment, focusing on his senses of sight and touch, staying in a position between the singing clock and the warm, solid body breathing behind him. In and out. In and out; he would hear the breath leave his lover's lungs, feel it breezing across the lobe of his ear. He closed his eyes to the blazing red numbers before him and focused on the chest rising and falling against his back. Every other sensation drifted away save from the feeling of that chest and the heart beating beneath it, keeping the steady rhythm of his life.

Suddenly, the ringing came tearing back to his uncomfortably peaceful existence as a strong arm reached over him to turn off the device.

"Draco, wake up and get into the bathroom." The blond lay still for a moment and allowed himself to be shaken a bit before he finally rose. How he had just ached to remain against that beating heart.

As he moved to the bathroom, he looked to the bed and caught Harry staring at him. The man gave him a wary smile and rolled onto his stomach.

Draco ached to feel that heart.

* * *

Days and days ago – it felt like years, but it was only days – he had made a wretched suggestion. Harry had been sitting at the kitchen table the day he had gotten back from work early that day. One hand was clenched tight in his pitch black hair, his leg shaking anxiously under the table, his eyes trained on one of the many papers splayed before him. "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Draco asked from the doorway. Harry's gaze shot to him in somewhat of a panic, but he quickly straightened up and shrugged his shoulders. "Everything's alright, right?"

"Yeah, uh . . . I was just going over the . . . bills and stuff," he said softly, running a hand down his tired face. Draco walked to stand beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and into those worried silver eyes and cursed. "I fucked up."

"What?"

"I fucked up, baby. Real bad."

Draco shook his head slightly, confusion clouding his features. "I don't understand."

"Sit," Harry told him, gathering the papers spread across the table in one pile. He shuffled through them absently before finally picking them up and throwing them across the room with an angered shout. His boyfriend flinched at the action and he rose from his seat to crouch before the blond, placing his hands in the man's lap. There were tears in Draco's eyes and he absolutely hated that. He had vowed never to see those tears again. He foolishly thought he would not have to. "Remember why we moved here, baby?"

"We wanted a house," Draco said, the tears beginning to dribble down his cheeks. The brunet reached up and wiped them away.

"The real reason, Draco."

"The fire," the blond sobbed, hating to admit it. They had lost five years of their life in the blaze that so heartlessly consumed their apartment. "Don't make me talk about it, Harry. I hate talking about it."

"Well, we have to 'cause I fucked up."

"What do you mean?"

Harry took a deep, shaky breath and pulled both hands from his lover's lap to fist them in his thick, dark hair. "Shit . . . I . . . I didn't tell you that the insurance company . . . They said they suspected arson so they would not accept our claim."

"What?" Draco sobbed, his eyes becoming as cold as steel. "What do you – Then how do we . . . How did we get this house, Harry?"

"I had to do some things," Harry said.

"Would you like to share?" the blond snapped.

"No, but the point is, I got the money, alright? And you got a house," the other man reasoned, a trembling smile that Draco dismissed on his lips.

The blond flipped his hair from his eyes and gazed at the air above the other's head, not wanting to see those persuasive green eyes. "I'm just going to assume this has something to do with your shady ass friends from school –"

"They're not shady just because they didn't have the same benefits as you!" Harry growled, but was ignored.

"– but I'm going to just pretend I don't mind all the _shady_ business and ask you why you are upset about it now," Draco huffed out, barely containing the venom from his voice. The pent up anger caused his to shake all over as he gazed at the air, still unable to look his lover in the eye.

"Sirius asked me for money." At the mention of Harry's estranged godfather, the blond pushed out of his chair and began to pace.

"And you gave him money, didn't you? How could you?! Do you even fucking think, Potter?! How much did you give him?" Harry flinched at the shouted question. "How much?!" Draco bellowed.

"The money I made for the house," came Harry's quiet voice.

"And he did not pay you back, did he?" came Draco's all knowing one.

"He hasn't yet –" Harry's voice unexpectedly faltered with a hiccup sound. "No, he did not."

"Because he's trash, Harry, and you know that," Draco said coldly, halting his paces and folding his arms to glare down at hung head of the man still kneeling on the floor. "Now, what else? I know there's something else. What other shitty thing have you done?!"

Harry flinched and balled his hands into fists. "We don't have enough to pay the bills . . . and the insurance company is billing us for a 'False Claim Fee'."

"We don't have enough for the bills? We . . . They can't do that, can they?" When he received no answer from the other man, he sunk to the ground and wrapped his arms around himself. He would have cried if not for a thought that suddenly ran through his mind. "Why don't we have enough for the bills, Harry?" Harry did not answer. "Answer me!" Harry did not answer. "You gave him more money than what you made for the house! Shit, Harry! Are you fucking stupid!"

"THEY WERE GOING TO KILL HIM! YOU KNOW THOSE LOAN SHARKS WILL DO FUCKING ANYTHING, DRACO!" Harry burst, beginning to shake as his boyfriend was. He took a deep breath and seemed to calm himself a bit. "I could not let that happen to him . . . He's . . . the only one I had left."

Draco felt as if his heart hand been torn out and spat upon. He rose slowly from the ground and moved back to the seat before Harry that he had previously abandoned. "You have no idea how much you've just hurt me, Harry."

The man suddenly looked up with pleading emerald eyes and shook his dark head reverently. "No, I didn't mean that. You're in a completely different category, Draco. It's just . . . With my parents dead . . ." The hard expression on the smaller man's face softened and he sunk to the ground and into the other's arms. Harry let out a relieved sigh and the hug became tighter. "I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . . It's going to be okay, baby. I promise. I'll always take care of you."

And as Draco sunk further into the man's strong arms, he believed him. "I guess . . . I can go to m-my p-parents," he whispered, dreading the further disapproval of his father; not only was he gay, but he was 

also reduced to living in a low class neighborhood with a man who had a criminal record and now he was reduced to begging for money like anyone on the street.

"No, baby, you don't have to do that. I won't let you hurt that way. I'll take care of it," Harry promised and the blond nodded, his lithe body sagging in relief. Harry rocked him back and forth and he nuzzled the brunet's neck, murmuring words of love and forgiveness for the next few minutes before a wretched thought passed through his mind.

"What if . . . What if you go to your friends and . . . they find you something that could help us?"

* * *

Draco threw his keys on the counter and grimaced that he could not get thoughts of that day out of his head. He had spent the entire day working at that stupid computer store trying to get the scenes that continuously played in his mind to stop to no avail. If anything, they became more vivid; his tears, Harry's tears, his suggestion . . . His thoughts were interrupted by a thumping noise upstairs and he frowned. It was Monday, so Harry should still be at the car shop, doing mechanic work. He climbed the steps slowly and his frown deepened when he heard familiar plucking sounds.

_Look at me, Look at me, _

_Driving and I won't stop _

_And it feels so good to be_

_Alive and on top._

He paused at their bedroom doorway when he smelled a familiar scent. The figure sprawled across their bed must have heard his approach because it lifted its head slowly and glanced at him with emerald eyes before sinking back into the bed pillows. Draco shook his head and walked into the dark room. He moved to the nearest window and flung open the blinds to let in late afternoon light. Harry grimaced and turned away with a slight hiss.

"I don't get why you always make it so suffocated in here when you smoke, Dracula," Draco said, his voice a bit strained as he struggled to pull up the window and let fresh air in.

"Take your work uniform off," the lounging brunet suggested, taking another pull of the joint in his right hand. Draco turned to stare at him and turned off the stereo before tugging off his black polo shirt embroidered with the company logo. "Hey, I was listening to that!"

"Uh huh," Draco said as he climbed shirtless into bed. He kissed the hooded eyed man slowly and snuggled up beside him, accepting the offered blunt and taking a long pull from it. When he finally exhaled, the tendrils of smoke seemed to crawl up his face before disappearing into thin air, though Draco could see that all the smoke was making the room a bit cloudy. "So what are you doing home? What happened to work?"

"I had a doctor's appointment, 'member?" Harry said, taking his blunt back.

"Actually no, I don't. You didn't tell me."

"Well, now you know." Draco frowned and stole the drug back. "Hey!"

He held the tightly rolled cigarette gracefully between two fingers and stared the other man down. "So what time was this appointment?"

"Around noon."

"Why didn't you go to work afterward?"

"I took the day off. I had other things to do."

"Like what?" the blond asked, bringing the joint to his lips. "And please don't tell me that you've been doing this all day."

Harry waited until Draco inhaled to sit up and give him a slow kiss. They exhaled the smoke together. "No, I did not. I got here 'bout an half hour ago."

"So what have you been doing all day?"

"Some things I just had to do. I gave Ron his car back."

"Did you?" the blond asked, pushing his hand under the other's shirt and onto his hard stomach. "That explains the weed . . . So . . . was a delivery made?"

"Yes," Harry said, a smile spreading across his face. "I have money. We have money."

"Do we?" Draco giggled excitedly. He climbed into his lover's lap and took another slow pull before reaching over to the ashtray beside the bed and letting the cigarette out. "I'm happy, but . . . Weren't you supposed to put half of it in our car to give to Blaise?"

"Plans change. Ron offered me more not to," Harry said flatly, rubbing his hands up and down Draco's trouser clad thighs. "I hate these pants." They had a silent struggle for a minute and then the blond's khakis were flung across the room. "I love your skin," Harry whispered as his hands resumed rubbing bare thighs.

"Mmm," Draco reiterated into a deep kiss. He pulled away languidly. "Isn't Blaise mad?"

"I talked to him, he's cool. He and Ron have an agreement."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not stupid, Draco. I have friends I can trust," Harry said flatly, though his voice seemed a bit harder than before.

"I know that," the blond said, trying to climb out the other's lap, but strong arms wrapped around his waist and held him still. "Let me go."

"Draco, calm down, I'm sorry I snapped at you," Harry said, offering a sincere smile that Draco accepted with a kiss. "So, what's for dinner?"

"Oh shut up," Draco scoffed, playfully punching his boyfriend in the chest and pulling away. Harry laughed and launched himself at the smaller man, pinning him to the bed. They struggled jovially for a moment until Harry pinned him to the bed with specific intent and leaned forward with emerald eyes glimmering with lust. Draco squirmed beneath him, grinding their arousals together. "Didn't you get enough last night?"

"I never get enough," Harry admitted as he buried his face into the blond's warm neck. Draco whimpered as his sensitive skin was licked, nibbled, and kissed. The brunet continued his assault on his lover's neck and rose to his knees until he was bending over the moaning blond. The moans only grew louder with more fervor as he insinuated his knee against Draco's groin, causing the blond to rub against him helplessly. He released the wrists he had pinned to the hard mattress and tensed a moment when he thought his lover's hands were going to push him away; instead, the hands on his chest slid around his neck. He was planning on sinking further into the embrace when the phone rang. Draco sensed the sudden tension in him once more and tightened his grip.

"Just me and you, Harry. No one else."

"I have to –"

"Just us," the blond urged in a growl through his clenched teeth, but Harry just shook his head, muttered a small apology and an even smaller curse and pulled away to lift up the phone on the nightstand. Draco pushed Harry as hard as he could as the man answered the phone, but the brunet quickly recovered and jumped to his feet before he could fall off the bed. Draco crawled to the foot of the bed and crossed his arms as he waited.

"Yeah . . . Yeah, I know . . . I did it today . . . Don't fucking pester me about it, I know what I'm doing . . . I KNOW!" Draco looked over his shoulder at that angry tone and Harry eyed him warily. "He's fine . . . Everything's fine . . . Alright . . . Tomorrow, then . . . I'll meet him tomorrow and everything will go well . . . Remember your promise." With that, the conversation ended and Harry let the phone land heavily back in place.

"What the hell was that about?" Draco asked standing and automatically putting his hands on his hips.

"I don't want to talk about it," the brunet replied absently as if totally drained of emotion. Silver eyes narrowed as he decided that that just was not fair. Harry had no right to be drained while he still rode an emotional rollercoaster of fear, anger and confusion.

"Well, we're going to."

"Why?" countered the flat tone as Harry moved to light the blunt again. Draco stepped around the bed and took the lighter from his hand.

"Because I'm your boyfriend and I have the right to know."

"You don't need to know everything."

"I do, Harry!" Draco cried out, ashamed that he had been reduced to whining. He threw the plastic device across the room and tore the drug from the other man's hand to do the same. "I have the right to know! Why won't you ever tell me anything?! Why do you lie to me?! I need to know! I'm your boyfriend!"

"But you're not my husband," Harry said coldly, his words sharp enough to pierce the blond's heart and shatter it into one hundred icy pieces. Draco took a step back as tears clouded his vision.

"Is that what this is all about? Because I won't marry you?" he said softly, not wishing to look the other man in the eye, but forcing himself to do so anyway. "We talked about this already. You know why . . ."

"Yes," came that cold voice once more. "Because you fear what your parents think more than you love me."

"That's not true!"

"I'd swear it on the Bible!" Harry shouted as he pulled the blond into his arms until they were pressed to one another, chest to chest. Draco shook with silent sobs, but Harry still held him tight, almost viciously so as if the man was trying to struggle away from him. Slowly, Draco forced his tears away and Harry lifted his pale face with a solitary hand, then reached up with another until he was cupping both damp cheeks. He brushed his thumbs under the mercury eyes gazing at him with longing and fear and he leaned forward to kiss the other man's slightly salty lips. "I love you so much, Draco. I just want to be able to take care of you, but you make it so hard sometimes . . . And I make it worse . . . I just want you to know that I don't mean to hurt you."

"Why do you do this to me?" Draco asked in a haunted whisper. "If you are aware of what you do wrong, why don't you try to make it right?"

Harry was silent for a long time. His gaze almost faltered several times from Draco's. He swallowed heavily and grimaced. Finally, he said, "Because I don't know what's right anymore."

The tears resumed their path down Draco's cheeks as he wrapped his arms around the other man and held him tight, whispering words of love and forgiveness, though Harry had not even apologized. "Harry, why do I feel like the more we talk, the more I lose you? What can I do to stop it?"

"You could marry me," the other man suggested, a hint of laughter in his voice even though his body had stiffened at the blond's questions. Draco pulled away from him slightly, only to be pulled into a deep kiss. He returned the kiss and more, but he recognized the action as one of Harry's quirks. The man could not take to see answers in his lover's eyes that hurt him.

However, Draco pulled away from the embrace and took Harry's face between his hands.

"Yes. I will."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alrighty then! So this chapter covered a lot. It's the longest so far and I hoped I filled in a lot of the blanks – not all of them, but a lot. I think I explained how they came into the predicament they're in now pretty well and I'm sure if I did not, you all will tell me. I also hope that I've given you a little more insight into their relationship. This chapter is drastically different from the rest and it is really meant to ground you with the story so far as well as prepare you for what is to come by answering a few questions and creating more. I know; I'm a stinker for teasing you with the answers, right? Hope you liked it and thanks for reading. _**–DMH**_

P.S!

Harry's a total jerk in this and he's really manipulating Draco even though the blond is not aware of this. Do not worry, though. Harry is a jerk for a reason and he does really, truly love Draco with everything in him. We'll just say that he's enabling _intended_ jerkiness, 'cuz seriously, after a big fight, who the hell cons someone into marrying them like that without being up to something?!


End file.
